Gone
by ContinuumFanGirl
Summary: Okay, bit of an angsty fic, but... It doesn't follow the storyline, it's kinda set before the finale, and is going in a different direction. Umm... It's a one-shot, for now. Don't kill me after you read it, I kind of twisted Kiera's character a bit... Leave a review. Rated T for some adult themes.


Note: I'm nowhere near as good as any of the other authors out there, so... be nice, and leave a review please!

Disclaimer: I do not own Continuum or anything, so...

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Sitting here, alone, your mind begins to wander. The timeline was completely, irrevocably changed. So why were you still here? Why should you stay in this terribly unclear past with no foreseeable future? Well, no future that you would like to witness. So you decide not to. Why let whatever unseen being, force, or whatever, that decided when the curtain fell choose for you? Why struggle on, when you have nothing left to fight for, not even the tiniest sliver of hope? If you died, there was nobody here to care. You would just be one of the millions of people who died every day. Just a mysterious woman, with a mysterious past, with no family, no friends, no _life_. Someone would find you, probably Carlos. He might be sad for a time, after all, you were partners. But he would eventually move on, forget about you, maybe even convince himself that you and your ludicrous story of time-travel were just the ramblings of an insane woman who had eventually taken her own life. But what would you do with your tech? After pondering for a moment, you decide not to care. Carlos would probably find it, along with your body. He could do what he wished with them.

You pause, is there anything else you should consider? No, there is nothing. No goodbyes to say, letters to write. That would just make things too dramatic, and you had no desire to, as they said in this time, go out with a bang. You had nobody to bid farewell to, anyway. You'd prefer to just fade away into the obscurity of a simple death.

After a quick purchase of some strong painkillers from a nearby pharmacy, you sit down on the edge of the bed, your suit, gun, and multi-tool perched neatly on the nightstand. Studying the bottle for some time, you slowly twist off the cap, pouring a handful of pills into your steady hand. With a glass of water, you take the pills in small, easily swallowed bunches, until the bottle is empty. Screwing the lid back on, you know that this dosage should kill you. All you have to do is wait.

Carlos knocks on Kiera's door, wondering what was taking so long for her to open it. "Kiera?" Silence.

Worry crossed his features. There was something off, he could feel it. This silence made him nervous. Pounding on the door, he calls, even louder this time, "Kiera!"

There was _definitely_ something wrong. Shouldering open the door, he hurries in to see… Oh, no.. Kiera lay across the bed, a deathly white pallor on her skin, a bottle of painkillers that he just _knew_ was empty on top of the nightstand along with her futuristic weaponry. Racing towards her limp, form, he yanks out his phone and calls for an ambulance. He pulls up the sleeve of her white blouse, relieved to feel a faint pulse. He prayed that she would stay alive until the paramedics arrived.

Thankfully, he had gotten there just in time. Another hour or so and her suicide attempt would have succeeded. Since there wasn't anybody else the doctor could call, Carlos was listed as a temporary emergency contact, until Kiera decided otherwise. They had pumped her stomach, and had reassured Carlos that, physically, she would be fine.

Sitting beside her bed, he grasps her slim hand in his, wondering why he had never seen this coming. She had always seemed so strong, so unbreakable… What had happened for her to resort to something like this? He stays on this train of thought for a while, before eventually falling asleep, with his head leaning on an edge of the bed, her hand still clasped in his.

Kiera opens her eyes, wincing at the bright lights of the room. The smell of disinfectant and other cleaning agents coupled with the harsh lighting... She frowns. She was in a hospital. Great. She tries to sit up, only to find her wrists restrained. Damn it. She was on suicide watch. Carlos is sleeping beside her bed, holding her hand... He must have been the one who found her. Her eyes fill with tears, both out of sadness and frustration. _Why couldn't you just leave me alone, Carlos?_

Her throat hurts, obviously, and so does her stomach. Other than that and a mild headache, she was fine. But what would she do now? Would they keep her tied up, lock her up in some psychiatric facility? After all, she had just tried to commit suicide. Before she can think of an answer, Carlos wakes up, sitting up to meet her blue eyes with his dark ones, which widen in shock, and he lets go of her hand. "Kiera."

"Hey, Carlos," she replies softly.

"Why?"

"Why what?" she asks, already knowing the answer.

"Why did you take all those pills?" He studies her, his eyes desperately searching her face for answers.

Looking away from his gaze, she shrugs. "Why did you keep me here?"

"In the hospital?"

She looks up at him again, unshed tears gleaming in her eyes. "Breathing," she whispers back.

"Kiera, I couldn't just let you die. I had to save you."

A tear trails down her cheek, and her breath hitches, "No, you didn't. You didn't save me. You brought me back to hell. You should have just let me go. Don't you see?" she demands, a note of desperation in her voice, "That's what I wanted. That's what I _needed_."

Before he can stop himself and think, the words burst from him, "But I need _you_. You're my partner, Kiera, saving each others lives is what we do."

Shaking from holding back sobs, she chokes out, while sitting up as much as she could, "You _didn't_ save my life. I'm already _dead_. Everyone I loved, everything I had, will never even come to exist. How can I still be living when everything else is gone?" She slumps back down onto the pillows and turns her head away from him, biting her lip to muffle the sobs wracking her slender frame.

"Kiera..."

"Don't, Carlos, just... Please, don't..." She moans, unable to stop the tears streaming freely down her cheeks.

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Note: Well, you've read it. I have never tried to commit suicide using pills, so I don't know how it works. Pretty sure that a whole bottle of painkillers would have worked, but I am not certain. To anyone who has tried to commit suicide or is contemplating it, I'm sorry if my use of it offends you. Umm... Please don't kill me... And leave a review. Thanks.


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